A Grain of Salt
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- Posted: Fri, 28 Sep 2012 05:44:25 +0000
The 6'5'' husband in question was in a decidedly foul mood, a fact made obvious by the set of his ruggedly handsome face. He seemed to look past his wife, then over her, deliberately avoiding eye contact as the glacial chips of his own vision narrowed on their surroundings. Satisfied, he shut the door and regarded the red head with disdain. When he finally spoke, his tone was reluctant.
"I could have driven." The argument preceding the statement had been a heated one, and he had lost. Bitterly. The man hated riding passenger. As far as he was concerned, he could drive blindfolded with one leg, hands behind his back and his teeth on the steering wheel...but no.
Oh, the joys of marriage.
Over it, he raked his ivory hair from his eyes and leather kissed leather as their hands embraced, gravel crunching beneath their boots. A fitted black T sheathed statuesque muscle, tapering off to denim jeans slung low on the V of his hips. Tribal lines slashed the length of his left arm, blending well with the gaping hole in flesh flecked with what appeared to be ink. The nature of the tattoo was hidden beneath his shirt where defining features landscaped his torso.
He looked pretty good for a guy who'd been shot in the forearm and fallen down a sewer a few hours ago. It had been worth it, though, in the end.
Left arm the useless mess it was, he released the woman's hand to open the cedar doors on what lay beyond. The hall was bright and tacky. Classy? He couldn't decide as he urged her through by the small of her back and led her to the left. Once they'd reached the bar, he grasped the bend in his left arm with his right hand, cranking his torso in either direction before rolling the tension from his shoulders. He'd been fine while they had been moving, but the ride over had left him stiff, aggravation adding to the strain in his joints.
As satisfied as he was going to be, he turned to his much smaller other half, his decidedly draconic features soft with concern. "How's your shoulder?"
Evil is a Point of View.◄◄◄◄